


Trapped in the Elevator Where it Happens

by TheMegaVanny



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Claustrophobia, Gayngst, I mean you cant have everyone come in when alex and john are stuck in an elevator, M/M, Modern Era, Most of theses characters make small apearances, Panic Attacks, There will be fluff, Trapped, Trapped In Elevator, White House!Alex, but just a tad, but only mildly, gay angst, idk - Freeform, lol, modern!AU, more tags as I learn how to do this, oh yeah, poor college student!John, so look forward to lots of that, the schuylers might show up later, they are mainly just mentioned, they are stuck there, vet!John
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 16:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10390764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMegaVanny/pseuds/TheMegaVanny
Summary: Alex was angry. He had so much work to do and so little time. Lord knows he needs all of it in order to accomplish his incredibly long list of goals. Now he's trapped in an elevator losing precious time.Well, it could be worse - Alexander could be stuck in an elevator with Thomas Jefferson. At least his cute neighbor will surely make this an interesting experience.John definitely, really, truly, desperately, absolutely had the urge to pee. He was honestly never expecting he would not get the chance to go later. All he wanted now was pee and go back to bed.Imagine his surprise when he has to deal with his hot, albeit short-tempered neighbor. Well, now John was forced to talk to his crush. There was no escaping this one, especially since he couldn't exactly leave.For 16 hours.16. Hours.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is my first fanfic! I hope you guys like it. It's gonna be multi-chaptered. 
> 
> Sorry in advance for the French, I'm using Google translate for that.  
> (The translations are somewhat simple, but they are at the bottom regardless.)
> 
> Feel free to correct anything you see in the comments!

_Thursday_  
_9:13 pm_  
_Hour -05:50:49_

In the late hours of the night in New York City, everything was as it should be: skyscrapers towered over the dark, gray streets; gleaming stars littered the late night sky; city life was bustling about; people were still in a rush despite the late hour; everything was as it should be.

Well, almost everything.

On a peculiar happenstance, a rather large rat was currently making its way into a large building of sorts, chewing and gnawing its way through the infrastructure.

Even more peculiarly, Alexander Hamilton was asleep, and Alexander Hamilton was not one for sleep - especially when he had such an important debate the next morning.

At age 27, Alexander Hamilton was the youngest member of the presidential cabinet, and the youngest Secretary of the United States Treasury there ever was. He was ecstatic President Washington had chosen him for the job. Years upon years of hard work had paid off; it was as if all of his obstacles in life had been overcome to get Alexander into this position. After everything he'd lived through, he would make sure to never let anyone down ever again, something a certain coworker of his was certain he would do.

Thomas Jefferson was by far the worst person Alexander ever had the displeasure of meeting. Aaron Burr may have about as many firm beliefs as a hat, but even his lack of commitment to any opinion did not deter him from being friendly with Alexander. Oh no, Thomas Jefferson was far worse than Aaron's indecision. He was an arrogant, egotistical jerk who consistently reminded Alex of the horrors he had witnessed: Everything was fair play to the man. He simply had no care for the damage he wreaked wherever he stepped foot.

Everyday Alex would go to work, prepared to run a real nation - and everyday Thomas Jefferson would try to tear apart everything Alexander worked for. Jefferson looked down on Alexander solely because he was an orphan, an immigrant, and a bastard. As if any of that mattered. Alexander Hamilton was here now. Washington chose him because he's smart, he works hard, he's the best at his job, and he is simply non-stop.

However, this does draw some consequences for Alexander.

As it is, one of those consequences is sleep deprivation, which is how Alexander Hamilton got himself into this mess.

He had been preparing himself for his debate, going through his dozens of pages of arguments, refuting every potential flaw Jefferson might conjure up about his latest debt plan. Alexander had already pulled an all-nighter the day before, having wanted to work on the plan. Needless to say, he was falling asleep at his desk.

At approximately 9:14 pm, he passed out, pen in hand, and papers strewn about his desk.

 _Friday_  
_2:31 am_  
_Hour -00:32:02_

By this time, our little rat friend had already made its way inside the large, dark building. Undeterred by the weird noises emanating from the building, it decided to settle down, roaming around large obstacles in search of bedding or food.

Back in his apartment, Alexander was still asleep. His apartment was pretty small, as it is what Alex was most comfortable in. He felt out of place in larger, grandiose places; he may have been part of the presidential cabinet, but Alex still couldn't help but feel as if he didn't belong in any glamorous, expensive place. Oh no, he was perfectly fine with his small apartment; it was all he needed.

Alexander was snoring lightly with his body hanging all over his desk. His face was covered in papers and he had long ago dropped his pen. Currently, he was drooling all over page 51 of his condensed notes, section 6.

Suddenly, Alexander woke with a start, jumping in his chair. Heart beating wildly, he clutched his chest, eyes darting around for whatever it was that woke him up. Looking to the right, he noticed a large blurred object blocking his view. He pulled the paper stuck to his face and gently set it down on his desk, back in its proper place - if he could find it.

"S✬✬✬," Alex cursed. His quick movements had scattered his papers all over the floor. _Great, now I have to pick all of these up, reorder them and finish writing if I want to-_

Alex felt his stomach drop as he realized he didn't know what time it was.

_I have to finish._

He rummaged around all the papers on his desk, looking for his phone.

_I have to finish._

He looked around his pseudo-office, bending over to check under his desk.

_I have to finish._

He caught a glimpse of something shining under a sheet of paper.

"Aha!" Alex grinned triumphantly and snatched his phone from its place. Now all he had to do was unlock it, and...

_Uh oh._

Alex only had three hours to work before he had to catch his train to DC. He thought to himself as he considered his options. Three hours seemed like just the right amount of time to add a few new arguments to his plan. Heck, he could even add another section to fight Jefferson. Perfect.

Alexander set about cleaning his papers, humming along to songs from his favorite musicals. He heard some loud rustling upstairs, but paid it no mind as he finished organizing his work station.

Alex sat back down and started writing, pausing only to yawn. By his seventh page, he had tears in his eyes from the constant yawning. Rather than going to sleep, as any sane person who had only slept five or so hours in the past two days would, he decided it was time for some fresh coffee.

Alex left his room and walked over to his kitchen. There, he started looking through his cabinets to search for materials to quickly brew up a pot of coffee. After five minutes of searching, he gave up, glancing at the time again.

_2:52 am  
Hour -00:11:13_

Surely _some_ coffee shop would be open at this time - it was New York, after all.

Nodding to himself, Alexander decided to go out. He got ready in about 10 minutes, trading his wrinkled, drooled-over clothes for some fresh ones. He grabbed a bottle of water on his way out, hoping to wake up some more before greeting other people.

Alex finally left his apartment and made his way down the hallway of the building, heading towards the elevator. He rapped his fingers against his water bottle as he waited for the elevator doors to open.

Alexander felt all the breath he had leave his body.

He didn't know what he was expecting when the doors opened, but it certainly wasn't a freckled angel with a halo of curls. Standing before him was the most attractive man Alex had ever seen. He was lean, toned, and... wearing turtle covered pajama pants? Nonetheless, this guy was hot.

Then he smiled a toothy grin and Alex felt his knees go weak.

 

* * *

 

 _Thursday_  
_6:58 pm_  
_Hour -08:05:23_

John Laurens was a very happy man. Sure he was covered in the various bodily fluids of a dog that had just given birth, but hey, he was living his dream.

Well, almost.

Ever since he was small, John had always been interested in animals. He loved them. John would always go outside with his sketch book and draw all the little critters he could find. It wasn't very hard to guess what he'd want to be when he grew up, although his father, the infamous senator Henry Laurens, was not exactly happy with his decisions.

Still, John had nearly made it. He was in his last year of veterinary school, the one where he finally got to intern with real veterinarians. He was completing course hours and doing what he loved at the same time. Then, he'd get his doctorate and open up his own practice - one where John was in charge of everything he did.

Currently, John was interning at one of the best veterinary clinics in New York. He had just helped a stressed Pomeranian named Pippa give birth to a litter of five. She belonged to an adorable set of 9 year olds who were waiting outside for their best friend.

John was gently stroking the four-legged mother. "Don't worry Pippa, you did good baby girl. Just rest, you deserve it," he cooed.

"Well, Pippa's not the only one who did good John," Dr. Garden said, patting John on the shoulder.

John glowed under the praise. Dr. Garden was the best veterinarian in all of New York.

"John, I really think you're going places. You easily handled all of the complications with this one," he continued, patting Pippa as well. "Let's get her to her family."

John felt his heart melt as the set of twins happily greeted their dog and their new set of puppies. He walked over to the front desk to write some notes on the dog, when he was met with the most annoying voice he had heard all day.

"I don't understand why parents let such young children have dogs," he heard the voice sneer. "Ha! I bet those mutts will die within a week."

"Lee, unlike you when you were younger, I'm sure these kids can take care of a living being without killing it," John bit back. He may not know these kids but he would defend them either way; they were just kids after all, and besides, it was Lee.

Charles Lee was the worst person John had ever met. He only worked at the practice because his dad was rich enough to place him there. John still wondered why Lee chose to work there, since all he seemed to do was complain about all the animals that came in and belittle the owners behind their backs. He would even berate Dr. Garden, insisting he could do better despite being hated by humans and animals alike.

Lee's response was cut off by the sound of the door slamming open, the bell above jingling hurriedly.

A tall man with hair curlier than John's pulled into a bun was standing there. He was easily over six feet tall and stained with a lot of blood. In his arms was a young pit bull.

He ran up to the front desk with the dog in his arms, shouting in frantic French. John blinked, catching the words " _car_ ," " _broken_ ," " _please_ ," and " _sorry_."

"Sir, sir! Calm down, what happened?" asked Dr. Garden, jogging up to the front desk and quickly examining the dog.

"It sounds like he hit the dog with his car," answered John.

"John, follow me, get the dog," ordered the doctor.

Gently taking the dog from the frightened man, John asked him to wait there while they took care of the dog.

_9:30 pm  
Hour -05:33:06_

Two hours and a leg surgery later, John came out into the waiting room. He smiled and told the Frenchman the dog would be okay.

" _Dieu merci!_ I am so sorry! I did not see him on the road and I thought he was going to die and-"

"It's fine sir, just calm down. Is the dog yours? His leg is fine, but someone needs to take care of him to make sure he gets his medicine and bandages changed regularly." John hoped the man wouldn't leave the dog alone, but he had stayed the whole time, so surely he couldn't be that bad.

"Of course! I would not dream of leaving _mon petit chien_ alone after what I have caused," replied the man, a sense of duty surrounding him.

John figured he could trust the guy, but just in case he couldn't handle it... "Here's my number, please call if any complications arise with the dog. My name's John Laurens."

 _"Merci! Je m'appelle_ Lafayette," he said, reaching out to shake John's hand.

_10:42 pm  
Hour -04:21:22_

John was finally in bed, going through the events of the day in his head. Dr. Garden had actually let him help with a surgery - a surgery! John was still unable to get over that fact.

He was glad it was him who got to help, he would have hurt Lee if he was able to force his way in the room. Either way, John decided he should probably try a little harder to go to sleep, for once dreaming peacefully.

 _Friday_  
_2:29 am_  
_Hour -00:34:46_

A loud noise ripped John from sleep and he quickly sat up in bed, searching for the bane of his existence. He turned to the right and realized his phone was blasting its ring tone from its place on his night stand. It stopped ringing as soon as he grabbed it, so he put it back.

Whoever it was could wait until the morning.

John didn't expect it to ring again and got startled once more, falling out of bed in his rush to answer it.

Too lazy to get back up and desperate to stop the loud noise, John simply unlocked his phone on the floor and let out a weak, "Hello?"

" _Who do you think you are, getting Dr. Garden to let you in on one of his surgeries? I bet you blew him or something! There is no other way you could have been chosen, the only thing you're good for is cleaning up dog s✬✬✬!_ " slurred Lee on the other end of the phone.

"It's nice to see you found my number, a✬✬hat," groaned John. Lee had obviously gotten drunk and decided to dial him, complaining about whatever it was that had gotten him mad.

After nearly fifteen minutes of bickering with Lee, John was finally done.

"Why am I still talking to you?" John asked himself, realizing he could just hang up and end his suffering.  
  
"Listen up here you-"

John ended the call, satisfied with himself for getting rid of Lee.

Until his phone rang again.

"What Lee!?!" he shouted into the microphone.

" _Monsieur Laurens? Is this you?_ " replied a slightly panicked voice.

"Lafayette?" John wondered why he was being called when his heart sank. "Is the dog okay?"

" _I am afraid he is not. All the vet clinics nearby are closed and Georges keeps whining and biting himself! What do I do? He looks to be in a lot of pain!_ " Lafayette spoke quickly, clearly worried for the dog's health.

"Text me your address, I'll be right there to check on him."

"Merci _, please hurry._ "

With that, John hung up, grabbing his work bag and filling it with anything he might need if Georges was truly hurt.

He checked the time and hurried out of his apartment to the elevator, quickly hitting the down button.

_3:02 am  
Hour -00:01:04_

"Come on, _come on_ ," he pleaded the elevator to go faster, as it made a stop a few floors from the bottom.

The doors chimed open and-

_Oh wow._

In front of him was Hot Laundry Guy.

A few days ago, when John moved in, he went to the laundry room on the basement floor to clean his clothes. As he sorted them, he saw this insanely hot guy run in and angrily mutter to himself while setting up the machine. He had shoulder-length dark brown hair that looked so soft John just wanted to run his fingers through it. He also had a small scruffy beard that made his face look ten times more handsome than it should be in John's mind. He was so small yet so angry.

John had stared at him in awe the whole time, watching him stomp back up the stairs. Afterwards he stopped by the laundry room quite often, hoping to catch a glimpse of Hot Laundry Guy.

He definitely did not expect the hot guy to be entering the same elevator as him.

All John could do was smile.

 

_3:03 am  
Hour -00:00:30_

Alex couldn't believe his luck. He was glad he went out to get coffee, if only to meet hot guy in the elevator.

"Hello," he beamed as he walked in, the doors closing behind him.

"Hi," responded the angel, in what Alex would describe as the hottest voice he had ever heard, if voices were to be considered hot.

_What I wouldn't give to get to know this guy better._

 

 _Act cool John, act cool!_ John was having an internal crisis, trying not to screw up his chance with Hot Laundry Guy.

"Are you going to the main floor too?" _Jesus John don't sound so nervous._

"Yep," stated Hot Laundry Guy, shaking his water bottle on his leg.

It was pretty cute.

_If only I could stare at him a little longer._

 

It was at this time that our rat friend from earlier was happy with his nest. All he needed was a brightly colored object to place in his home as a sign of his grand achievement. He roamed around and found a few long pieces of brightly colored objects. Pleased with himself, he bit down.

_3:03 am  
Hour 00:00:00_

Suddenly, Alexander and John, along with a large part of the city, were enveloped in darkness.

 

 _S✬✬✬,_ Alexander thought.

 

"S✬✬✬," John said.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! I plan to upload at least once a week. :) I'm not sure when though, I still need to set up a schedule that works.
> 
> French Translations:  
> Dieu merci! – Thank god!  
> mon petit chien – my little dog  
> Merci! Je m'appelle – Thanks! My name is  
> Merci - thanks  
> Monsieur - mister


End file.
